Cut from the Same Cloth
by TurnMyGriefToGrace
Summary: MerDer one shot, set directly after "I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked." Based on Joan Rater's blog excerpt, which sums up the point that even when they fight, they're on the same team, because that's marriage. Enjoy.


**Disclaimer: Not mine. Also, I have a cold, so it's not _completely_ my fault if this sucks.**

**Thursday's episode left me feeling a little down, so I decided to write a little something (and by little, I mean very short). Keep this part of the blog in mind as you read, which I think sums up things perfectly:**

**_"But when Derek and Meredith lay in bed at the end of the episode and she says she understands why Derek did what he did, she doesn't like it but she gets it. She's ambitious too. It's bittersweet and true. I like that. It was a crappy day. She didn't like what Derek did. But she's here, in bed, telling him. She's a grown up."_**

**Sigh. I love grown up them.**

**Enjoy.**

**--**

Derek feels the bed shift beneath him as Meredith props her elbow on top of her pillow, pivoting her body towards him. Before he can say anything, her fingers worry themselves in his hair. That's how she shows love, solidifying the vows that hang above them on blue paper in a wooden frame. Her silent way of saying _Just because I didn't hug you back, I still love you, you know._

"We _are_ the same," she says in concurrence.

"What?" Derek turns his head, dares to meet her eye. He expects to see anger, annoyance, anything but what he actually sees reflecting back at him. Acceptance.

"You said we're the same," Meredith reiterates. "And we are, Derek."

She gestures to the wall behind their bed with her hand. Because really, if that doesn't prove her point, what will? "That's why we're married. We _get _each other," she stresses.

Derek stares up at the ceiling. She's right and they both know it.

"You drew on the wall, because you knew that there was no one else you could talk to about Isaac's surgery. Except me. Because I'm your wife," Meredith says. "We got married on a Post-It note, because that's _us_. That's all we needed. We trust each other not to run off when things get hard or cheat on each other and ruin everything we've worked for."

As the words leave her mouth, she tries to fight back the painful twinge that rips through her. All around her, things were falling apart. Derek is the only constant in her life these days.

"Mer, you know I'm not going anywhere," Derek replies.

_No running. Ever. Nobody walks out. No matter what happens._

She trusts him now. It took time to build up that trust, after everything they'd been through. But now it's unwavering. _Because_ of what they'd been through.

"I know you're not. Neither am I," Meredith tells him. "Even when we piss each other off. Because that's marriage. Not some dumb piece of paper with the Washington seal of approval on it, or that left over piece of wedding cake in the back of the freezer. That stuff doesn't matter."

Derek turns his body slightly and Meredith can feel his warmth beneath the covers. "There's no easy answer here, Derek," she points out. "I understand why you did what you did. You want to be Chief and I—"

"It's not about that," Derek interrupts. He rubs his eyes with the backs of his wrists and sighs. "He's been using you—bribing you with lessons and surgeries, just so you'd keep your mouth shut about the drinking. You know it, and I know it. And I understand that you want to protect him, but he wasn't protecting you."

He releases a breath and looks to her, desperate for her to see his side of things. "If you'd done that surgery today, and made a mistake, do you really think Richard would've taken the blame for it? Because I don't. And I couldn't let you go in there and risk that. I care more about you and your career than Richard or the board or being Chief. I don't give a damn about any of it, but you."

Meredith blinks in realization of what he'd done, and fights back the smile that pulls at her lips. "So you didn't do this for you," she states. "You chose me."

"Yes," Derek says, simple and direct and without hesitation. "I care about _you_. Chief is just a title on a plaque. You're my wife, Meredith. And I'm sorry I put you in that position today, making you choose. That wasn't fair to you. I get why you're mad but I only did it because—"

She presses her finger lightly over his lips to silence him. "I know," Meredith says softly. "I get it."

In the choice between surgery and love, he chose love, however misconstrued it seemed. He chose her. He would _always_ choose her. And really, she already knows this. They've proven that to each other, time and time again.

"So I'll help you," she continues.

"Hmm?" he asks.

Meredith lies down next to him, her arm draped over his torso, making up for the hug she'd trumped him of earlier. Though she'd never admit it, the cheesy, married part of her been feeling bad about it for hours.

"You're stepping in for him," she says. "Right?"

Derek nods. "For a while. Until he comes back."

"Then I'm supporting you. And that's not me, choosing one over the other. That's just…us," she shrugs. "That's why there's a spinal tumor sketched out in damn Sharpie on our bedroom wall. We're married, So I'm going to be there for you. And if…when you officially become Chief one day, I'll still be here."

Because that's marriage. For better or for worse, and everything they promised on the small blue paper above them.

"Thank you, Meredith," Derek whispers gratefully, kissing the top of her head that lay on his chest.

"And for the record…" she finalizes.

"Yeah?"

Meredith breathes in her husband and smiles. "Shotgun to my head, you or surgery, I choose you." She already knows he knows that, but still. Saying it out loud was nice.

"I choose you too."

_Always, unquestionably, forever._

He wraps and around her and draws her against him.

They are the same.

--

**Hope you enjoyed it. New chapter of Thinking Over coming tomorrow afternoon, I promise! :)**


End file.
